Movement
by the-vampire-act
Summary: Song challenge drabbles, suggestive pre-slash. All around him there was movement, and with that movement came the undeniable desire to stay completely still.


**Series of drabbles written with song prompts **

The Scientists- Coldplay

Spencer Reid stood completely still, because in all honestly, that was all he could do. His wide eyes wandered around the streets of the Virginia city, taking in every light, every passer-by, every snowflake. Despite it all, despite the movement and the lights and the memories crowded around all at once, he remained where he was, just standing next to a bench and a trash can pretending to belong.

It had been a rough case, but they all were anymore. Deep down, if he was being considerably honest to himself, he knew he was losing it. That was okay though, because he knew it was going to happen eventually anyways.

Suddenly, the aspect of movement grew too unsettling to postpone. While giving into its urges and its pushes, he also gave it a 'screw you' by moving to the bench to sit down. He inwardly laughed. Any other night, that would've been funny. Not tonight, though, not tonight.

Spencer's unfocused eyes took in the sights and scenes surrounding him, counting every shopping bag, every styrofoam cup, every forced smile and faked and choked-out laugh. He was growing sick of the scene, and it was growing sick of him. It wanted something new and impressionable, while he wanted something worthwhile and pure. Their relationship just couldn't be anymore, and as a way to signify that he agreed, Spencer sadly dropped his coffee into the trash can opposite of him. It helped, really, knowing what it meant.

Unfortunately, it just didn't help enough.

Way Back Home- Band of Horses

Spencer Reid had never been a dreamer, not even as a child. He never dreamt of fields full of rivers and trees and flowers, where he was free to read his books without being interrupted by people of 'lesser intelligence' and 'lesser understanding'. No, he never wished that he was alone with Her in that field, and never thought for a second about how nice it would be to see her smile and twirl in her purple sundress as she picked lilies and laughed carelessly. He certainly never even imagined how amazing it would be to feel the sun beating down on them as the danced by the river and playfully splashed water at each other.

That same boy hadn't grown up with a strong head and a stronger heart. No, he hadn't still dreamt of a valley or a iceberg or a meadow or a beach far away from the killers and the criminals. No, that hadn't even crossed his mind once.

Open Your Eyes- Snow Patrol

Sometimes, your eyes refused to open. They refused to see certain things, process certain thoughts. They would rather you remain ignorant to certain things, but when exposed too often to those things, they had no choice but to sigh and move over for them to join your mind. That's okay, though, because it happens more times than never.

Spencer Reid had never understood if that was a bad thing or a good thing. It allowed him to see things he hadn't before, understand things he hadn't known existed a year or two ago. It also took away his innocence and corrupted his mind, though, and that was a hard set of conflicts to make worthwhile.

A year ago, Spencer Reid never knew who his godchild was, he never knew the faith of a mother so kind that had been so misunderstood, he hadn't taken the hand of a victim so hurt and so sad, and he hadn't understood what it meant to be a hero.

Now, _now, _as Spencer Reid stared ahead of the BAU building ahead of him, he opened his eyes to see the victims they had helped and the lives they had saved, the families they had restored and the lives they had given a second chance. And as he stared, a small smile finally spread across his lips, and he didn't even give a hesitant step as he walked toward the building and inside.

Today, Spencer Reid's eyes were wide opened.

Cryptomnesia- Cold War Kids

Spencer Reid let the glass slip from his fingers, the world frozen before him. The images of a nameless politician and a woman wearing a low-cut red dress blurred past him, and the crying man with a picture out in front of him was barely visible as he slammed down his fee and walked out of the bar. It was against his better judgment, really, but he had to leave. He couldn't take the heat and the paranoia growing in the place, the same feelings he had come there to escape.

His legs stumbled on the cool cement beneath his feet, and before he knew it, he was yanking off his coat despite with snow and wind blowing past him, and in desperation, he ran as fast and as far as he could manage. In seconds, new images graced his eyes and new textures passed his feet. Tears trickled down his eyes as he jolted to a halt, and his eyes stared ahead at the 'Foreclosed' sign on the window of the door.

'My god, what is going on?'

What If-ColdPlay

It wasn't okay to feel okay. Not in this situation, anyways. It would mean that he was numb and exhausted, stained and used. The world was supposed to take its toll on him, and as he stared out at the glimmering city lights from the top of his apartment building, he realized that it had. God, had it taken its toll.

He no longer saw the hopes and dreams of millions held as a symbol of lights and communication, rather he saw failed expectations and dreamless dreams of children and elderly men. He supposed that was innovation, though, and with a huff he shook his head. Damn, had they screwed things up or what?

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Spencer Reid pulled his jacket close to his lanky body and walked off of the building.

He supposed that there were some things better left alone, and maybe, just maybe, they would leave him alone, if only for the night.


End file.
